Whatever It Takes
by Missy Motion
Summary: Jeff Hardy/OC Two shot I wrote for Alissa. Here's part one. Hope you like it Lis! Please R


**A/N:** Okay so here is the newest story. I sure hope I'm not getting ahead of myself with all these stories, but anyways I really hope you like it. Let me know what you think in your reviews, good and bad are both accepted. Thank you so much, and happy readin :)

**Disclaimer:** I own all characters besides Ken and Mr. COnway. Ken owns his character, Ken, and Mr. Conway is a teacher at my school xP.

**-Chapter One: Just Another Day-**

* * *

"And don't forget about you rsummer video project!" Mr. Conway, my media studies teacher, shouted over the sound of us students shuffling out the door.

School was officially over, I didn't want to think about a summer project. I ran down to my locker and opened it, pulling out an envelope before dumping the remainder of my supplies. in my backpack.

"Come on where is he?!" I asked myself, tapping my foot against the tile floor and looking around for my best friend.

"Kay kay!" I heard someone yell before felling a sudden force on my back, causing me to stumble forward slightly.

"Ken, get off me," I giggled, standing up straight and hugging him once his feet were back on the ground. "Okay, you ready?" I asked, holding up my envelope.

"Let's do this," he smiled as we tore open our envelopes. We pulled out the papers and scanned our eyes over them.

"Wow, straight A's again, Kayla?"

I blinked and shook my head slowly. "He's gonna kill me," I replied, starring at the one "C" on the paper.

"Well Paul is a douche bag, he can't expect you to ace everything. That's like, not humanly possible," Ken insulted, shoving his paper back into the envelope.

"It doesn't matter. He married my mom and she lets him be a 'parent', and whatever he says she goes along with," I shook my head as I slipped the strap of my backpack over my shoulder.

English has always been my worst class. I haven't gotten over an 85 in that class since sixth grade

"So how'd you do?" I asked Ken as we walked down the street towards my house. "You know, the usual; nothing worse than a 'D' nothing better than a 'C'," he shrugged.

I laughed lightly and looked over at him. "You're comming to my house, right?"

"Of course," he smiled and we continued to my driveway and up to the house. I pushed open the door and walked in, shutting it after Ken entered.

* * *

"Mom, I got my report card!" I yelled, knowing Paul was still at work.

"I'm in the kitchen baby," she yelled back. Me and Ken made our way towards the kitchen, smiling at her.

"Hey Ken," she greeted him as I smiled and handed her my grade paper.

"Hi mom," Ken replied, smiling widely.

My mom laughed lightly and looked over the paper, smiling. "Congratulations honey. I'm proud of you."

I smiled and hugged her as she returned the hug.

"We're gonna be up in my room, call us when dinner's ready," I smiled, pulling away as Ken and I headed up to the stairs to my bedroom.

I pushed open the white door and walked in, dropping my backpack beside me on the floor. My walls were painted white with different sized pink and green polka dots spread out randomly. A queen sized bed was pushed into the far left corner with white sheets and a pink blanket with matching pillow cases. A small plush green rug lay at the foot of the bed while a pink one lay in front of my closet, which is located on the opposite end of the room from my bed. Just in case you haven't figured it out yet, my favourite colours are pink and green. I walked over to my computer desk which is next to my closet and sat down in the green spinny computer chair. I spun around and watched as Ken walked over and sat down on my bed. He layed back on the bed and turned his head to look at me.

"You staying for dinner?" I asked him, turning back around and bringing up instant messenger on my computer.

"Of course I am, you know me," he chuckled.

I giggled and turned around to face him again as his cell phone began to ring.

"Hel-" he pulled the phone away from his ear and scrunched up his face as screaming was heard from the reciever. "Yeah okay, I'll be there in a minute. Bye," he closed his phone and stuffed it back into his pocket as he stood up from the bed. "I'll be back in time for dinner," he informed me after kissing me quick on the cheek.

"Okay, be careful," I told him, concern and worry my only visible emotions. He gave me a weak reassuring smile as he picked up his backpack and left the room.

His foster father wasn't exactly the greatest person on the block. Actually, it was hard to even call him a father at all. There were days where Ken would come to school with bruises on his arms and sometimes he wouldn't even be walking as normal. That's why he often spent a lot of time at my house, to keep away from his "father." Not only that, but we really understand eachother. I know what he goes through, considering the same thing happens to me. Although it's only been happening to me for a short while, where as he's been dealing with it for the last four years.

The only difference is that I just take it while he fights back. He wound up in the hospital a few times. Broken arms, sprained wrists, one time he got hit so hard his jaw was shattered. The worst he's ever given was a black eye and a busted lip, but that's more than I can say for me. My stepdad never touches my face, says he can't risk people being suspicious. But let's just say, I won't be wearing a bathingsuit anytime soon. I stood up and walked over to my closet, pulling open the door and turning to face the mirror. I scanned my blu eyes over my straight, mid-back length layered dirty blonde hair. I slowly lifted up my well-fit white short sleeved shirt with floral and butterfly patterns on it in blue stitch, revealing slim, bruised stomach.

* * *

I dropped my shirt as my head snapped towards the door that had just been thrown open. "Don't you ever knock?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"What is this?" Paul asked, ignoring my question.

"My report card," I replied, noticing the paper in his hand.

"And what did I tell you about your grades?!" he asked, stepping towards me.

"It's just one 'C'," I informed him, tensing my body.

"Are you arguing with me?" he asked insulted, raising his eyebrows at me.

"N-no, I was ju-" I tried explaining, but was cut off by him aggresively grabbing my bicep.

He tightened his grip on my arm and pulled me closer to him, pain and fear read clearly on my face. "Don't you dare talk back to me or I swear to God I'll-"

"What's going on in here?" my mom cut him off, stepping towards us.

"Nothing," he spat, throeing me down on my bed. I watched him walk out of the room as my mom came and sat beside me.

"Are you okay?" she asked, lightly touching the area of my arm where his hand had just been.

I sharply turned away from her and nodded my head. "I'm fine," I lied.

She sighed and placed her hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I know," I replied. It's not anything I haven't heard from her before in this situation.

She brought her hand back to her lap before standing up and walking out of my room.

I sat up on my bed and looked at my arm, whincing as I gently touched my fingertips to the red mark left by Paul. I stood up and grabbed a navy blue hoodie from my closet before closing the door. I slipped it on, knowing an ugly black and blue bruise would soon be replacing the red mark.

* * *

I walked over to the doorway, hearing distant yelling comming from the living room. I silently tiptoed down the stairs and crouched at the bottom of the banister to get a better view.

"What do mean he wants to take her for the summer?!"

Wait who, me?

"Paul, she's his daughter too."

It has to be me, but who is "he"?

"Yeah, by birth. He gave up his parental rights the day he left."

"What's going on?" Ken whispered, crouching down beside me.

"I don't know, I think someone wan-"

I stopped once I looked at him. He had a black eye from what I could see. "Where else, Kermy?" I whispered, using the nickname I had given him a few years back.

"I'll show you later," he reassured.

I smiled weakly before turning my attention back to the arguing couple.

"Why don't you just send him another one of those videos, or pictures?!" "

He wants to take her, Paul. And quite frankly, I think it would be best for right now."

I looked at Ken confused, him returning my expression. I heard footsteps comming towards us, so we quickly tried to scramble up the stairs but to no avail. My mom chuckled and shook her head.

"Dinner's ready."

I looked up at Ken and then back at my mom, both of us giving her innocent smiles. She scoffed playfully and walked off towards the kitchen. I let out a breath before Ken and I followed her to the table.


End file.
